


A Wonderful World This Could Be

by shuhannon



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, F/M, House Cryber, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 20:37:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20364748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuhannon/pseuds/shuhannon
Summary: Rey had options, had other ways she could be spending her time than being cooped up into an old barn with terrible air circulation, trying to get an old car on its last leg of life started again.“I want to stay here,” she would insist, seated on the edge of the old wooden work bench, her legs swinging and her hand poised over the tool box by her side, ready to assist in a flash. “I’m learning more here.”* * *rey helps ben cope with the loss of his father by falling into their old routine.





	A Wonderful World This Could Be

**Author's Note:**

> here's another one shot when i should be updating my other WIPs. I'M SORRY. the ideas keep coming and i have no self control.
> 
> this was mostly inspired by the [best scene](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vKM0nH6-NnI) in the movie 'witness' which features this [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R4GLAKEjU4w).
> 
> thanks so much for [meeda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meeda/pseuds/meeda) for beta-ing this for me! your feedback and comments were extremely helpful and great. <3
> 
> as usual, any and all comments/kudos are greatly appreciated! let me know what you think.

It was hot. The humid air hung stagnant in the air, stuffy and thick. The summer in Yavin was always hot; was always too moist and too warm. Rey thought she knew heat. She had lived the first years of her life in the desert. But the dry heat of being surrounded by nothing but sand was nothing compared to the humidity of the dense forest of Yavin 4.

Beads of perspiration covered her skin. The sun was going down, but it seemed the heat was here to stay. What Rey would give to jump into the cold lake; to hop into a shower, keeping the water as cool as she could stand and enjoying the pressure of the water washing away all the sweat and dirt of their day.

She wanted to ask ‘how much longer?’ and ‘are we almost done?’ but Rey knew the moment she began to whine Ben would dismiss her; would offer her a way out. 

“You know I can do this by myself,” He had always said when she had still been a kid. Finn and Rose were going down to the lake for a swim. Poe had offered to take her on a scooter ride downtown to grab some ice cream.

Rey had options, had other ways she could be spending her time than being cooped up into an old barn with terrible air circulation, trying to get an old car on its last leg of life started again.

“I want to stay here,” she would insist, seated on the edge of the old wooden work bench, her legs swinging and her hand poised over the tool box by her side, ready to assist in a flash. “I’m learning more here.”

And she was. Mechanics, fixing things. It was right up her alley. Had always been, even before Chewy had taken her in; before Ben had entered her life and her informal mechanic training had begun.

That had been so many years ago. Back when she had always worn her hair pulled into those three little buns, one stacked on top of the other, and Ben had rewarded her hard work with slushies and promises to take her out for a drive once they got the car working again.

That had been before it all; had been back when Ben was speaking to his parents and Luke. Back when he was around for holidays and birthday celebrations.

Back before Han had died.

***

“Where is he?” Rey didn’t know why she asked. Didn’t know why she had bothered. Because she knew. She knew even as she followed Leia’s line of sight out the back screen door and to the old barn on the edge of the property.

The workshop. The Falcon. 

The sun was going down but the air was still humid. Beads of sweat began to form on her skin. Her black dress clung to her back, the hem sticking to her legs. Already she was itching for air conditioning and a cold glass of water.

Nonetheless, she persisted, kept moving forward.

It was impossible to sneak up on him with the way the barn door creaked; the way the old wood moaned and groaned as Rey pushed it open, slipping inside before it shut behind her.

The barn was even warmer. The air was stagnant. There were a few lights on; old utility lamps clamped to rafters, forming makeshift recess lighting. Rey had actually helped Han hook it up. She had been eleven or twelve, eager to please and even more excited at the prospect of climbing around the old hayloft, while Han tossed her lights and chords and they went to work.

  
  


_ Don't know much about history, _

_ Don't know much biology _

The same old tape played. That had been rule number one of working in the barn. You did not change out the tape. You did not adjust the volume or put on top forty. Only the oldies. That was the only music allowed.

“You have to listen to what the cars like, kid.” Han had told her, ruffling her hair as she peered into yet another engine. “You have to listen to the decade that the car was built. So that it’s familiar, comfortable.”

Since Han and Chewy only ever restored vintage cars, it was only the oldies all the time. Seventies when they had fixed up that Corellian Corvette. Eighties for the X-34 Landspeeder. And for the Millenium Falcon? It was the sixties. Nothing but the sixties.

The Falcon was the only car they could never get running.

It had been their summer project, hers and Ben’s.

“Dad said I can have it,” a teenage Ben had told her, his tone bouncing between excitement and superiority, because he was older than her. He would soon be getting his license that year, whereas Rey was still in elementary school, feeling miles away and always a dozen steps behind. “Once it’s up and running, it’s going to be my car.”

They had spent so many hours in that barn, music on the sixties on full blast and Rey on water bottle duty. They would work through dinner until it grew dark outside and Chewy was calling for Rey to come inside. They would rise early in the morning, Rey sitting on the workbench and shoveling soggy cereal into her mouth. Because she had promised to eat a good breakfast before she began to help.

But, after one summer and then two and then three, Ben began to grow restless; began to feel as if the car was nothing but a lemon. That it was too far gone to get running.

It had led to a fight; had caused Ben to trash the barn, to throw the tool box and bust the front headlights on the Falcon. Had caused Ben and Han to yell and shout, both of their hands raking through their hair in frustration.

Ben had left.

Han didn’t go after him.

And Rey had been completely frozen; completely rooted to her spot in the audience, unable to move one way or another. 

That night was when everything began to shift and change. Ben stopped working on the car, stopped hanging out in the barn with Rey.

He began to grow; began to move away. 

“It’s natural,” Rey had heard Leia tell Chewy one night. “It’s normal for kids to want space to find themselves. But it still hurts that he’s pulling away so  _ much  _ and so  _ hard _ . He won’t talk to Han anymore, barely returns my phone calls.”

And he pulled away from Rey too.

Through the internet she kept tabs. Poe still saw him from time to time when their paths crossed in Coruscant. 

He wanted space? Fine. Rey could give him space.

_ Don't know much about a science book, _

_ Don't know much about the french I took _

But, stepping back into that barn… hearing that same old song playing on a seemingly endless loop, with the hood of the Falcon sprung open. 

It was like stepping into a time machine.

It was as if no time had passed at all.

His back was to her, hunched over towards the engine, his face hidden by his work. The sleeves of his white dress shirt had been pushed up towards his elbows, and he was already sweating by the way his dark hair was beginning to curl along the base of his neck.

Suddenly, her throat felt dry. A lump formed, blocking all words, all sound from escaping.

Because she should pay her condolences. She should tell him how sorry she is for her loss. 

She should tell him how she misses him, how his mom needs him; needs him to make visits home and call more frequently.

How Rey needs him too.

Because she missed having Ben Solo in her life.

But this was her chance; their chance to hold onto a moment in their lives that they would never have again. Because Han was gone. Because Ben had a different life, one foreign and separate from her own.

Because they had both grown. Had both evolved and changed. They didn’t know each other, not really, not like they had while growing up together as neighbors and friends.

Yet, in this barn, on this night, with grease on their fingers and the radio garbling in the background, they could pretend that nothing had changed, that nothing had happened.

They could go back to where it all started and hold on tight. It wouldn’t last. Lies never did. They always broke away, unable to withstand the test of reality and time.

In this barn, they could be untouchable. They could play pretend. For one night and one night only.

So, Rey took up her spot besides the tool box, fingers at the ready.

They fell into a familiar rhythm.

“Breaker bar.”

His voice was deeper and yet the same. Their fingers brushed as Rey passed him the cool, metal bar. The shock was still there; the electrical charge she felt traveling down her spine at the sliver of contact.

She was still desperate for his touch; still eager for any brush of his skin against hers.

Time hadn’t changed that. Hadn’t faded the effect he had over her. Or maybe that went with the magic of the barn. Went with the heat and the smell of sweat mixed with motor oil and old stale hay.

They continued working in silence, nothing but tools and chills exchanged between the two. And then, there was a lull in the radio; a pause in the mix tape that had been most likely made by Han years prior. Of all their favorite songs; all the ones from the sixties that they always listened to when working on the Falcon.

_ Don't know much about history, _

_ Don't know much biology _

She caught sight of his hands stuttering over the cylinder head.

Their song.

This was always their song.

Her body was leaning heavily on the side of the Falcon. Hours had to have past. The funeral was well over, the food had probably been all packed up while Leia had most likely been sent to bed with a glass of water and a couple of Ambien. Maybe Chewy or Finn had come looking for her. Maybe Poe had been sent to try and track down Ben.

But, no one came. It was just the two of them, safe from reality and the night, wrapped up in the heat of the barn.

She began to hum. She couldn’t help it. Began to drum her fingers to the beat of the melody on top of the toolbox. 

Soon, Ben was joining in. He stood, his back straight for the first time in hours. When had he gotten so tall? When had his shoulders become so broad? Ben had always towered over her. Had always been a pure building, despite Rey’s own above average height.

Now, his height seemed to be another reason he was so far away.

His lips were pressed together as Ben too began to hum along. It wasn’t long before he began to sing, his deep voice soft and low, muttering the words out in time with the beat. 

_ Don't know much about a science book, _

_ Don't know much about the french I took _

A smile twitched in the corners of her mouth as Rey tried to contain it, biting down onto the soft flesh of her bottom lip. Because they had just buried Han; had just said their final goodbyes. Because Ben was clearly grieving. Because Ben was clearly not coping. Because it wasn’t appropriate or right to be singing in the barn on the day of his father’s funeral.

Except it was almost too fitting; almost too right.

Because this had been Han’s song too. The one song that would stall all work for the two minutes it played as they would sing and dance, moving around the barn in quick steps, the lyrics belted at the top of their lungs in their off key voices.

_ But I do know that I love you, _

_ And I know that if you love me, too, _

_ What a wonderful world this would be _

His eyes caught hers and, suddenly, the smile threatening to spread across her face faltered. Suddenly, the air in the barn was growing thick with more than just the summer heat. Suddenly, Ben seemed so close; too close and yet still too far away, just out of hand’s reach.

The front of his dress shirt was wrinkled, the top few buttons undone and Rey could see the drops of sweat slowly working their way down along his neck, trailing along the lines of definition in his chest. The shirt looked too tight across the front. It was wrinkled too, and his dress pants were a mess, with grease and debris from when he had repeatedly wiped his hands against his thighs.

It was getting harder to breath.

_ Don't know much about geography, _

_ Don't know much trigonometry _

_ Don't know much about algebra, _

Then, Ben was closing the distance between them, his voice growing louder. He grinned at her; that same old lopsided grin that was synonymous with thoughts of his father. And then they were together, his hand taking hers as they began to dance.

She laughed. She giggled, her body becoming nothing but a boneless rag doll as he spun her around. She followed his lead, moved where he went. And his singing grew louder; his baritone more clear and crisp.

_ But I do know that one and one is two, _

_ And if this one could be with you, _

_ What a wonderful world this would be _

Rey was suddenly a kid again. Chewy would be calling her for dinner. Han would come out to see what progress they had made with the Falcon. Leia would get home from work and head straight to the barn to see if they had gotten it running yet, all while asking if they wanted some lemonade.

Ben would tease her. Ben would tell her jokes and give her silly dares. Ben would teach her about the different parts of the engine and the history of the Millenium Falcon; all the places it had driven and the adventures it had gone on.

And Rey would listen. Rey would absorb every single word that left his lips because he meant the world to her. Because Ben was it; was the center of her universe, her sun, her stars and her sky.

Because Rey shone her brightest when Ben was around.

She felt bright again now. On the same day they had said goodbye to Han. It was cruel and mean, a terrible joke for the universe to play. But, when had the universe ever been kind to Rey? When had it ever taken pity on Ben?

They could not change the hand they had been dealt. They could not change the circumstances of their life. They could only hold onto these moments; cling to the little bits of joy they found between all the tears and fear and pain and mess.

His hand found the curve of the small of her back. Rey wouldn’t be surprised if she saw the imprint of his hand burnt into her skin when she changed for bed that night. She didn’t care. Let him mark her. Let him claim her. Because she was already his. Had always belonged to him.

_ Now, I don't claim to be an "A" student, _

_ But I'm tryin' to be, _

_ For maybe by being an "A" student, baby, _

_ I can win your love for me _

She was singing now too, her own voice higher and more off key but she didn’t care. They sounded good together, sounded right. Tilting her chin up, Rey kept her eyes fixated on his. Even as he spun her; even as he dipped her and moved her around the barn so quick that her head was getting dizzy.

Rey just laughed and she sang.

And then, their bodies met again. His fingers curved tight around her waist, drawing her in more and more, bringing her flush up against him.

She felt flames lick at the back of her neck, felt her body growing warm.

It had nothing to do with the poor air circulation of the barn.

They both just stood there, her front pressed up against his. She looped her arms around his neck, drawing them closer as her fingers began to twirl and play with the hair at the base of his neck. The song continued on, playing in a loop as they both began to sway.

Rey worried her bottom lip. Suddenly, everything hung in the air; all the unsaid words between them, all of the lost years.

Reality was beginning to seep in. It was knocking on the door, the noise growing louder and more insistent. 

“Ben.”

He shook his head, his lips still moving, still singing along to the words of the song.

_ Don't know much about history, _

_ Don't know much biology _

“Ben,” She tried again. Because he needed to hear this. Because if she didn’t say it now, then when?

He leaned closer, resting his cheek against her temple as they continued to sway, as Ben continued to lead their bodies in a slow circle. Rey could feel the rumble in his chest; could hear the vibration of his words as he continued to sing along with the radio.

So, Rey accepted defeat. She would let him have his moment; would let him cling to the memories of this barn for just a little while longer. They would have a chance to talk later. There was still so much to do; so many things to get done. It wasn’t like Ben was leaving right away. He couldn’t go; couldn’t abandon Leia again like that.

Besides, this way Rey could have her moment too. She could cling to Ben, hold him closer and pretend it was more than just an old family friend trying to grieve his father.

* * *

This song was always going to be theirs.

Ben had heard it a few weeks ago. He had been standing in line at a coffee shop, impatient and eager to get his caffeine and move on. How long did it take anyways? He ordered black coffee. No cream, no sugar. No mocha frappe shit with a caramel drizzle. Black coffee. That was it. Or maybe it was the ‘to go’ aspect of it that was so complicated? Ben had been in the middle of an internal monologue bashing the entire coffee shop corporation when he heard it.

_ Don't know much about a science book, _

_ Don't know much about the french I took _

Maybe it was a good thing Ben had still been waiting for his coffee, because had it been in his hand he would of dropped it the moment the silky tones of Sam Cooke filled the store. 

It was funny, how one song could take you back. A single melody could transport you far away to a different time. It made his head hurt, made his stomach give a lurch.

He could smell the hay. He could feel the oil and dirt on his hands as he once again tried to get the Falcon to start.

_ Don't know much about a science book, _

_ Don't know much about the french I took _

And he could see her there. He could see her as clear as day, sitting up on that old cluttered workbench, her legs swinging and her head bobbing along to the music as she handed him tools. He could hear her laugh; hear the way she would sing along, always a beat behind and a key off tune. 

_ But I do know that I love you, _

_ And I know that if you love me, too, _

_ What a wonderful world this would be _

Ben left the coffee shop without his drink. He had already paid (and overpaid at that) but Ben didn’t care.

He needed to get out; to clear his hair and get a breath of fresh air. By the time he finally stopped moving, he was on the other side of the city, doing his second lap through Green Park.

Seated on a bench, Ben pulled his phone from his coat pocket. He ignored all the missed calls and text messages, all from Mitaka or Hux, all about how he needed to get to the office ASAP and how there was an ‘emergency’. 

Meaning Snoke needed him; wanted a private meeting for something that could very easily be summarized in an email or phone call.

Snoke liked things with Ben to be done face-to-face.

But right now, the First Order could wait.

His fingers were shaking by the time he got to his Holonet account. He never was on it; never updated anything or responded to any messages or friends. Most of the time, Ben wondered why he didn’t just deactivate the whole thing.

Except then how would he keep tabs on her? 

There were ‘friends’ on the app, though Ben didn’t know the last time they actually spoke. He didn’t know the last time he even saw her.

She was finishing up college now. Engineering degree, her profile said. She was still in Naboo, still attending Theed University. He bet Chewy was proud; his parents too. She wasn’t the same gap toothed kid that spent weekends helping him fix up cars. She wasn’t the same freckle faced girl that Ben had left behind.

She used her account more than Ben. There were recent pictures; ones taken by friends that she had been tagged in. There were pictures of her hanging out with her friends at bar crawls and baseball games. Selfies where she made silly faces; where she was dressed up, clearly ready for a date or a night out.

It hurt, sometimes, knowing that because he had left his parents he had left Rey behind too.

But, it was for the best. She was doing fine. She didn’t reach out to him; didn’t call or text. She didn’t need him anymore. Not like she had when she was little. 

Rey moved on.

Ben needed to move on too.

Three weeks later, he got the call; his father had died. A stroke. He had hung on for a few hours; had been stubborn even in his demise. But, eventually, his body suffered another stroke and that had been that.

His mother had been there. Chewy and Luke too. It had happened too fast, his uncle had explained over the phone. The funeral was Thursday. His mom wanted him to come out as soon as possible; wanted his help with the planning and decisions that needed to be made. 

He drank an entire bottle of whisky that night. Ben got himself properly trashed. And, once again, he had gone looking Rey up; had his finger hover above that ‘message’ icon. It would be so easy to just type out “hi.” Not to mention he had the perfect excuse. Han hadn’t exactly thrived in the fatherly role, but at least his death would provide a decent conversation starter.

In the end, Ben just drank until he puked before passing out on the bathroom floor.

He got on a flight the next day for Yavin.

***

The song came to an end. It petered out before the next familiar tune began to play. Ben recognized them all after listening to the same mix tapes time and time again for so many years.

The next song wasn’t as important, though. Wasn’t as meaningful or significant.

Still he kept standing there, kept his hands around Rey’s waist, kept her body pressed to his.

There was so much still left unsaid. There was so much that Ben needed to try and explain. He had never been good with words. He had always struggled to try and explain what was going on in his head; to sort out his thoughts and feelings into cohesive sentences.

She was looking at him now; had her chin resting on the top of his chest, her eyes wide and curious, staring up at his face. She was waiting for him; was giving him the opportunity to speak first; the chance to say what was on his mind.

Because his dad was dead. Because he was being given a free pass for being absent; for abandoning her and his family. He knew the guilt of not speaking to his father one more time would live with him. It would be something he would have to learn to live with, to accept. It would be something that would slowly gnaw away in the back of his mind, always present without any solution to solve it.

But things with Rey didn’t need to be that way.

And if he wasn’t good with words, if he couldn’t figure out what to say; couldn’t figure out how to say it…

Staring down at her, he could make out every freckle on her face. New freckles, old freckles. Freckles that he recognized and ones that he had never seen before.

His lips parted. His gaze lazily drifted down her face; over the ridge of her nose and down to the bow of her lips. Her lips. He became entirely transfixed on her mouth. And, suddenly, Ben was overwhelmed with the urge to lean forward; to close the final bit of space between himself and her. He wanted to taste her; wanted to know what hose lips would feel like when pressed against his own.

“Rey? Rey.”

The voice of his uncle broke the trance. To be honest, Ben wasn’t sure who stepped away first. They both simply sprang apart, as if suddenly their skin was burning with the heat of an open flame. His eyes stayed fixated on her, taking note of the way her cheeks were flushed. Had he done that? Was that because of their proximity or was it just due to the heat of the barn?

“There you are,” Luke pushed open the old barn door. The only acknowledgement he gave Ben was a glance in his direction. Otherwise, the old man’s attention was almost entirely thrust upon Rey.

“Chewy’s been looking for you, Rey. It’s getting late. He wanted to make sure you got home alright.”

The sarcastic snort slipped. Ben hadn’t intended to make the noise. That had to be a joke. Surely Chewy couldn’t be worried. Rey could find her way home in the dark; could probably walk from his house to hers with her eyes blind folded and her hands tied behind her back.

Luke ignored him, which was probably for the best. Ben had shown up late to his father’s funeral; had contributed nothing to the planning or the service itself. And the first moment he could, he had left the wake; had ducked out the back door and made his way to the barn, ditching his jacket and tie along the way. Luke had plenty of ammo to pick an argument; had plenty of less than stellar behavior to ridicule Ben with.

Not that Luke ever needed an excuse to strike a fight with him. At least he never had in the past.

Instead, Luke just stood in the doorway, silent but an expectant look on his face. Ben watched as Rey looked between the two men, opening her mouth and then shutting it more than once.

“Go,” Ben murmured, giving a sharp nod in Luke’s direction. “He won’t leave until you do.” His short, clipped tone was back. The walls were rebuilding themselves brick by brick, the pace quick. 

Instead of moving towards Luke, Rey took a step towards Ben. It was hesitant, the movement wavering ever so slightly.

“Don’t leave.” Her voice was low and she seemed to be reaching for him, her hand then pausing in mid air before abruptly dropping back down to her side. “Don’t just disappear again. Not without saying goodbye.”

Ben couldn’t make any promises. He knew that. Just spending the night in his childhood bedroom was hard enough; the posters of obscure indie rock bands and vintage cars practically mocking him and what his life has become.

It was going to be hard enough to be around his mother; to try and be supportive and strong when really all Ben wanted was to scream. To throw things. To punch something or something. To cry.

Nonetheless, he nodded at Rey. “Okay.” It wasn’t a promise. It wasn’t an agreement or a plan to meet for coffee in the morning or grab lunch later in the day. But, it was more than just disappearing again into the night. It was more than going another eight years without communication or contact.

It was at least something; the smallest slivers of hope.

* * *

Once Rey was gone, Luke trailing behind her, Ben turned back to the car.

“This is a joke, right?” He wasn’t sure who he was talking to. Maybe to God, if there was one. Maybe to himself. Maybe to Han.

“You rigged this car to fail. Took out a pin or put in a fucking bad gasget, right? This car is never going to start.”

Ben had been trying since he was fifteen. He had spent most of his teenage years in this very barn, just trying to get this old hunk of junk to start; to move, to do something.

As he wiped his hands on an old rag, Ben surveyed the Falcon once more. It’s exterior was good; the silver paint job was flawless and even the leather seats inside were beautifully made without even the tiniest scratch or fault.

It was its insides that were the problem. Its heart; its brain, i’s guts. That was where the problem lied. That’s the part that Ben couldn’t figure out.

“Garbage,” he muttered under his breath as he slammed shut the hood of the car. He didn’t treat it with care anymore. He wasn’t afraid of breaking it. Because how could you break something that didn’t work? How did you break something that was already broken?

He had put away the tools. He had turned out the lights. He had gathered up his discarded jacket and tie, dusting off the stray piece of hay as he moved.

Ben wasn’t sure what made him do it. He wasn’t sure if it was a change in the air; wasn’t sure if he was just dragging his feet, trying to postpone the inevitable of facing his mother, of returning to his old bedroom in the house that haunted his dreams.

Or maybe it was something more; something bigger than Ben. Maybe it was Han smirking down at him, from whatever fucking afterlife he had weaseled his way into. Maybe this was his final gift or final curse.

Either way, Ben sat beside the driver’s seat, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. Because he hadn’t tried anything new. He hadn’t done anything different.

His fingers fumbled with the keys. He placed them into the ignition. He turned once. Twice. He should just give up. He should put on the brave face, stop being such a baby and go inside. Maybe just one more. What did his dad always say? Third time’s the charm.

“Yeah, fucking right,” Ben scoffed.

But, his fingers turned the key again.

The ignition caught. The Falcon roared to life with a terrible groan. It was pure music to his ears.

A change in the air, indeed.

  
  
  



End file.
